Learning To Fly
by Wind Sy
Summary: Duo is the first Wingly in History to attend human public school. High school is bad enough without being the new species in town...
1. Chapter 1

Well, been a while since I put anything up. This is a new story; I=m thinking of scrapping AAngel@. I just don=t know where to take the story. Sorry, guys. But to make up for that, I=ve got a new one for you. Check it out, and tell me what you think. Till next time, people.  
  
~~*~Wind Sy  
  
Principal M..J. Sarera sauntered into his office, jacket slung over his shoulder, briefcase in hand. He passed by his secretary=s desk without so much as a glance at the slightly plump woman, sat down desk and put his feet up. He placed his case on his desk, and with a practised air, threw his coat onto the coat tree five feet away.  
  
ehmn=. He cleared his throat. His secretary didn=t even look up. AEhem@ He cleared it louder this time; still nothing. AAHEM@ He practically shouted.  
  
His secretary squeaked in surprise and bustled over as fast as her short legs could carry her.  
  
AYes, Mr. Sarera?@ She asked politely.  
  
AAny messages for me?@ He asked, almost bored sounding. There were never any messages. It was just a small ritual that they went through every school-day morning.  
  
Usually, though, Mrs. Sluser came at the first ehmn=.  
  
There was something bothering her, Mr. Sarera surmised. And she=s normally so calm. I wonder what it could be? Ah, I=m probably imagining it.  
  
His intuition proved right, however, when Mrs. Sluser suddenly became delighted with her feet, looking all the world like a chastised child. She refused to meet Mr. Sarera=s eyes.  
  
"What is it, Irene?@ He asked, more than a little afraid of the answer. AIt can=t be that bad, can it?@  
  
AWell ... @ Mrs. Sluser=s hesitation proved that yes, indeed, it could be that bad.  
  
AOut with it.@  
  
AOk, well you know that new law they passed that says Winglies have a right to public education?@  
  
AYes. I was on the No Winglies= campaign.@  
  
AAnd you know how your side lost? And how, since nobody could decide on where to put the Wingly rep, they drew straws for which school? @  
  
AYes ...@ Mr. Sarera had a feeling of where this was going, but didn't like it one bit.  
  
AWell ...@  
  
AWell= WHAT?!@  
  
AThey picked our school@  
  
Mr. Sarera, High school principal and former gym teacher, active member of city council and an all round strong guy, fainted dead away, and landed with a crash as he fell out of his chair and onto the floor. 


	2. Chapter 2

Sololo-Du-Maxuwelluo-Shin squirmed yet again in his chair in the office waiting room, the high backed frame not made to correspond with his five- foot wingspan. The student two chairs down from him, a gothic monstrosity with holes and sticks everywhere on his face, glared at him. Sololo-Du- Maxuwelluo-Shin - Duo for short - released a pheromone that was the equivalent of giving the student the finger. Not that the Goth could smell it, but it was the thought that counted.  
  
Duo sighed and looked around the cream coloured office, noticing that there was only one painting on the wall. It looked as if one of the better art students had donated it, seeing as it was ... rather unorthodox. It was actually quite nice; it just took a little getting use to.  
  
Duo got up to inspect the painting further. The Goth hissed and moved down one chair, trying to get as far away as possible. Duo didn=t even glance his way, trying to ignore the hatred in the student=s eyes.  
  
The painting was of a disproportionate, Picasso-esque angel taking a perfect baby out of its dead mother=s arms. Not too grotesque, Duo thought. But not too happy. Huh. Look at that. This angel looks like a Wingly, ... almost.  
  
Duo smiled, remembering what his instructor had told him about human religion. He had loved the way Gredalian-Jakorea-Lae had taught, making even the boring lessons in Human Math and Human Government fun. Of course, it helped that Duo was the only one there ...  
  
AThere is one thing humans hate more than anything else;@ Gee had said, "Even other humans can=t compare with it. They all hate to be told they=re wrong. Especially when it comes to religion. No matter what faith, they go nuts when you bash it. Heed my words, Young Duo. Take an assertive tone with humans, but never an aggressive one. If things turn physical, you would probably win; failing that, remember that you can always fly away.@ Here, Gee had gotten up and had stood imposingly before Duo. ABut humans do not forget grudges easily, even when they have forgiven them. Be careful how you act, or you may find yourself in a kind of trouble you can=t fly away from.@  
  
Duo had committed the words to memory.  
  
Duo sighed and rested his head against the wall, getting another glare of protest from the Goth. The smell of hate was hanging around that boy thicker than Lily Wax hung around a farmer coming straight from the orchards. The combined feelings from the remembered smell and the lesson were enough to give Duo the worst bout of homesickness he had yet encountered. It brought him back to his dismal reality with a start.  
  
It was his first day, and he was already in trouble. It wasn=t his fault the kid bumped into his wings! He had missed his class from sitting here so long, as the Principal was getting to the bottom of a fight that happened at lunch. The surrogate family he was staying with was horrible to him; his jaw hurt from all this verbal communicating, and he hadn=t seen one of his friends, let alone another Wingly, for six days! If he had to have one more stale, no-smell conversation with some old fart who didn=t like him just because he was a Wingly, he was going to fly back to the Colony and never come back! Screw Wingly-Human relations; he was going home!  
  
At that moment, the Goth - who had been waiting all of ten minutes - got called in for his turn with the Principal. As he passed Duo, he huck- tooied, and caught Duo on the cheek with a wad of spit. He sauntered into the office without a glance back.  
  
Duo sat in stunned silence for a moment, struck to the core with such an unprovoked act of malice. Slowly, he got up and made his way to the box of Kleenex that was sitting on the desktop of the receptionist=s desk.  
  
As he wiped the spittle from his face, Duo was suddenly aware of just what people thought of him. He was not a person to most of them. Just an animal; a being without a soul or a conscience. Something to be loathed and hated; never befriended or loved.  
  
A silent tear rolled down his cheek as he walked out of the office. 


	3. Chapter 3

Duo didn't care where he was going; just so long as the halls were empty and he didn't have to face any more students. He was lost in his own thoughts, when he realised he was in the basement.  
  
He made his way slowly down the hall, running his hand idly along the lockers, when he noticed a subtle vibration through the floor. He walked a few steps more and paused, now able to pick up intonation along with the pulse. Someone was playing music. Loud.  
  
His pace picked up as he travelled towards the sound, soon bringing him to a set of metal double doors from where the now clear and intoxicating music was coming from.  
  
Duo opened the doors slowly, trying not to draw any attention to himself, lest the musicians spot him and ask him to leave. He slipped inside the room, noticing the players right away. There were three of them; one of them, a blond-haired and blue-eyed boy, was improvising a wicked keyboard part. There was a bass player, a little taller than the keyboard player, who had green eyes and a weird shock of brown hair that swept down into his eyes and was plucking the bass like he owned it. Which he probably does, Duo thought wryly to himself. The third was a black-haired youth. He pounded the drums so fast Duo couldn't see his hands.  
  
The trio was at the front of the three-tiered band room, still not noticing Duo was standing in the door frame. Looking around the room, Duo saw all sorts of instruments; from violins to string double basses; from trumpets to trombones to a beat up bass clarinet.  
  
Suddenly, the bass player stopped and stared right at Duo. He motioned to the keyboardist, who stopped playing and also turned to stare at Duo. The drummer, not hearing the other two, got up to see what all the fuss was about; he froze when he saw the Wingly.  
  
Duo, now quite embarrassed for interrupting their practise and not wanting a repeat of the office, fled out the door and into the hall, which was still mercifully empty. As he ran down the narrow halls, keeping has wings folded behind him and out of the way, he could hear sounds of pursuit.  
  
"Stop! Please, I want to talk to you!" A light tenor, almost feminine voice came from somewhere behind and to the right of Duo. He slowed but didn't stop, as he reached another set of double doors, revealing a T junction. Duo whipped around to the left path, his long braid hitting his wings, and ran down the short corridor until it turned sharply to the right. He sprinted down the locker-lined hallway. At the end of that stretch, there was another right turn - and only a right turn - so he took it. It was halfway down this hall when he realised that he was probably running around in a square; his suspicions were confirmed when he rounded yet another right and came face to face with his pursuer.  
  
The small boy, slightly winded, stuck out his hand. "Pleased to meet you. I'm Quatre Rebaber Winner" 


	4. Chapter 4

Duo looked down at the proffered hand warily.  
  
"What do you want of me?" He asked cautiously.  
  
Quatre smiled. "Well you name would be nice, if you could spare it."  
  
Duo grinned evilly. Quatre wondered briefly if he had made a mistake following the winged boy, when he caught movement from right behind Duo. His eyes flickered towards it and back quickly, as he acknowledged it. The Wingly wasn=t going anywhere.  
  
"My name is Sololo-Du-Maxuwelluo-Shin." Duo put on his haughtiest air.  
  
Quatre raised an eyebrow. "Well, Trowa, I think we finally found someone who=s name is harder to say than mine!"  
  
"Quite" A voice, a few notes lower than Quatre=s, came from right behind Duo.  
  
Duo spun around and came face to face with the Bass Player, whom Quatre had called Trowa. Duo instinctively threw a punch, which was blocked and returned just as quickly. Duo narrowly blocked it, and tried to sweep his assailant=s legs out from under him. The Bass player jumped over the move, combining it with a spin kick to Duo=s side. Instead of dodging, Duo grabbed his foot and spun. Trowa landed on his hands, sprung away from Duo, righted himself, and calmly began to wipe his hands clear of the dust from the floor. Duo, likewise, flexed his fingers and wings, just as methodical as you please. He grimaced and touched his side, wincing slightly at the contact.  
  
"Damn, your good. That kick was nasty" He stretched to one side, working the muscle. Nothing damaged, he surmised.  
  
"Not too bad yourself. It was pure luck I blocked the first attack." Trowa walked over and stood beside Quatre. Who was currently looking at both them as if they had grown other heads.  
  
"So ... that's it? You two are friends? You looked like you were both trying to kill each other a minute ago! What happened!?" Quatre pouted and leaned against the wall. "Someone had better start explaining!"  
  
Duo chuckled; a rich, warm sound, "We were both fighting passive-resistance style. Both had the underlying feel of not really wanting to hurt your opponent. More of a friendly spar ... in a deadly sort of way."  
  
Trowa took it up from there, joining Quatre against the wall. "The two fighting styles, though radically different, were essentially the same."  
  
Duo took up the thread "Both very effective at damaging your opponent - "  
  
"While allowing you time to get free." Trowa finished up. He and Duo grinned at each other, friendship already formed.  
  
Quatre glanced from one to the other. He sighed, and pushed himself off the wall. He was about to say something about the two overzealous fighters, when the sound of doom echoed throughout the school. The bell rang, signalling the end of fourth period.  
  
Trowa and Quatre looked at each other in panic. As one, they both grabbed one of Duo's hands, and began pulling him down the hall, back towards the safety of the music room.  
  
~*~  
  
As they neared the music room doors, shouts and jeers were starting to come their way. Cries of "The little faggot boys" and "Go to Hell, Aids- fuckers" were most common.  
  
Trowa and Quatre broke into an all-out sprint as the insult shouting crowd began to throw things at them. Everything from crumpled pieces of paper to used condoms flew all around them. Even a cafeteria tray thunked against the doors as the trio slipped in, locking the doors behind them to thwart any over eager haters.  
  
Quatre sat down on the floor, swiping his fingers through his bangs to rid himself of a piece of chewing gum thrown by the hecklers in the hall. Trowa sat down next to him, aiding his friend with the sticky pink goo. The  
  
Quatre sighed, "That was too close for comfort, Trowa. They almost had us!"  
  
Duo peeked out the window of the door. The crowd was dispersing,  
going to their various classes, but not without casting dark looks at the music room.  
  
He turned to face the two on the ground. "What the Hell was that about?" he asked, reaching behind him to pick out a protractor that was caught in his wing.  
  
Trowa refused to meet Duo's eyes when he answered. "We, like yourself, are outcasts here" He gave a look to Quatre, who placed a hand over his and nodded for him to continue. "We are the first and only gay couple to ever attended this school." 


	5. Chapter 5

Duo crouched, head down, stock-still, as the red and yellow light of sunrise began to filter in over the buildings of the city. His wings were tucked tightly against his back as he balanced precariously on the lip of the roof. He had discovered this place only yesterday, a few days after he had met Quatre and Trowa. His usual dawn ritual had been severely lacking as of now; he had not been able to find a suitable place to meditate.  
  
The light from the sun was slowly creeping down the chimney, turning everything it touched from the pre dawn gray to brilliant gold. The light climbed up the horizon, turning Duo's hair a light chestnut. As he felt the first rays touch his face, he opened his eyes fully, staring into the blaze. He threw open his wings, watching with wonder as the dew that had covered them from sitting on the roof so long caught the sunlight in a million dazzling drops.  
  
Duo laughed, as he always did during his morning ritual; his love of the sun, of morning never ceased, and he hoped it never would. He closed his eyes once more, and breathed in the morning air. He let it out in one swift sigh, and opened his eyes to an unexpected sight.  
  
A feather, floating gracefully on his own breath, was right in front of his face, just over the edge of the roof. Slowly, almost timidly, he reached out and gently grasped it by the tip. It was pure white. He smiled unknowingly as he ran it across his jaw, then his cheeks, eyes, down his nose and across his lips. Slowly, gently, he held it in front of his eyes, twirling it in his fingers. Almost reverently, he ran it through the air, watching closely as it tugged to be free of his hand and float through the sky.  
  
Duo brought up his other hand and let his fingers run across the feather, feeling the smooth and silky texture.  
  
Duo stilled his hand, frowning. He brought the feather closer.  
  
'Shit'  
  
Duo was thrown out of his meditation as he realized it was his own feather. He gave a silent plea to whatever deity was listening as he checked the tip...  
  
'Shit, it's black!'  
  
Duo groaned and stood out of the crouch he had held the last hour and a half.  
  
'Why do I have to start molting now?! It'll take me a week to get my primaries in, and until then I won't be able to fly. How am I going to get away from the goons in the school if I can't fly?!'  
  
Duo huffed angrily and started pacing the roof. By the looks of the feather, he'd have another two days, three if he was lucky, to fly. After that he was grounded for a week. In this school, that meant running... lots and lots of running. Not that Duo was slow, by any means, but the bullies knew the school. They also had a few years practice of knowing where their victims would run to.  
  
There was one place they wouldn't go: the band room. The only ones who did were Trowa and the others in the little group that they had. Duo smiled as he thought of his new friends. Trowa was quiet, and soft-spoken; but when he did say something, you'd better shut up and listen. If you didn't, you'd have Quatre to answer to.  
  
'Ah, Quatre,' Duo grinned and shook his head as he remembered the slight blonde. So kind and gentle, yet so protective of Trowa. As if Trowa needed protecting. Duo gingerly touched his side where the bass player had landed a kick. There was still a bruise.  
  
Duo had met the black-haired drummer the day after the spitting incident. His name was Wufei, and Duo didn't get much more out of him, or out of Quatre when Duo asked him about the drummer later. No one knew that much about him, just that he was quiet, prone to stomping off in a quiet rage, was Chinese - and proud of it - and talked very little about himself. Also, he was content to spend his time during his spare and lunch practicing with Trowa and Quatre. This made him a close friend with the couple, and an outcast to the rest of the school, although with one major difference that Duo happened to discover.  
  
While no one outside of the little group talked to Wufei, no one bothered him either. Duo saw why first hand. On Duo's third day at the school, a new or just overly cocky bully (Duo hadn't been there long enough to tell who was new or not; there were over 1000 students) had pushed Wufei into some lockers. Wufei had responded by some amazing martial arts which Duo had trouble following, but in the end, halted only when the unfortunate bully was literally crying for mercy.  
  
What impressed Duo so much, though, was that there was not a scratch on the kid. No bruises or blood or broken bones.  
  
Duo smiled as he thought of his new friends. 'This isn't as hard as I thought it was going to be,'  
  
Duo let the feather in his hands float to the roof, and deciding to take advantage of his rapidly declining ability to fly, leaned over the roof and opened his wings to the bright sunlight. 


	6. Chapter 6

This chapter is dedicated to Renee, who incuraged me to get back at my fanfics again. Thanks Rabid, I owe ya one. It's also dedicated to Shinigami's Stalker, who wanted to see Heero. Hope this meets the standard, S.S! Thanks a bunch for all your support, all of you!  
  
Duo sighed as the warning bell for first period rang, and he made his way to the gymnasium. Being in the public education system, he had to follow the curriculum. But since he didn't have the qualifiers to go into any other first period course in Gr. 11, he had to take Physical Education.  
  
"I think the Principal hates me, I really think he does." Duo thought aloud as he walked the increasingly familiar halls towards the gym in his red and white Phys Ed clothes.  
  
Phys Ed was a nightmare. Not only did Duo have to learn about human health, and "How to keep in Tip-Top Shape" as last week's video had proclaimed, but he also had to compete in the various activities that Phys Ed teachers so often force on their students. Duo had known from day one that it might be a problem, and he didn't mind not using his wings for basketball and other things like that; the rules were easy to pick up on, and Duo was naturally good at aiming. It was when the second week had started yesterday, and the class began the unit on wrestling that a problem arose.  
  
In order for Winglies to fly, there had to be three main factors present: very low body fat content; a slim, small frame that was aerodynamic; and hollow bones. All in all, Duo weighed about 60 pounds, and even that was a bit large for a Wingly. Duo was built for flight and speed; not for grappling in hand-to-hand combat with hulking brutes twice his height and three times his weight and more.  
  
It was the last factor that Duo had to explain to the teacher, who, while understanding enough, made Duo sit on the side bench and watch. Which lead to questions from the others in the class why Duo was sitting out. Which lead to the coach explaining something he knew next to nothing about. Which lead to a frustrated Duo enlightening the class of the finer points of the Wingly body.  
  
Which meant that everyone in his gym class knew how easily they could put him out of commission, maybe even kill him...  
  
'If they could catch me.' Duo thought wryly to himself as he nudged open the twin doors to the gymnasium. The gym was large and spacious, with the school mascot – a wild cat – on a wall mural in red and white, the school colours. The snarling feline graced the floor as well, right in the center of the gym. Both the mural and the floor painting were big enough to fit four people lying down comfortably. Duo bared his teeth to the cat on the wall, mimicking its fierce expression.  
  
He looked around and saw no one in the gym. He sighed with relief, and spread his wings wide, stretching them out and even flapping them a little, to see how they lifted. He was pleasantly surprised when he felt a resistance. He was almost done molting, (did he ever get a lot of grief about stray feathers from his host family) and wouldn't have to worry about it for another three months. He hated not being able to fly, but he needed new primary feathers every once in a while or he wouldn't be able to fly at all. Duo smiled and flapped harder, lifting himself a few feet off of the ground. Even if he couldn't really fly yet, it felt good to use his wings again.  
  
Duo heard the door opening behind him, and quickly dropped to the ground, spinning as he did so he could face the intruder.  
  
He was surprised and a little relieved to see a new, but friendly face. Duo didn't recognize all the students who went to the school, not by any means, but he knew the ones in his gym class, and this face was certainly a welcome change from the pimples of the hulking brutes.  
  
The intruder was small, almost as small as Duo, 'But a little heavier,' Duo thought to himself. He was dressed in the regular white t-shirt and red gym shorts, which did absolutely nothing for anyone, but Duo could tell he was wiry and built. The most striking feature, however, was the newcomer's face.  
  
There was only one word to describe the boy: beautiful. He wasn't handsome, cute, or even hot; he was beautiful. He had a strong chin, flawless skin, full lips, small but shapely nose, dark brown hair that stuck out in every direction but the way it should go; and eyes, oh those eyes. Expressive, but forbidding pools of dark blue; drawing the looks of admirers and potential dates only to scare them off again with the barely contained anger thrashing in their depths.  
  
Duo took this all in the moment he landed, but stopped dead when he looked into those eyes. Never before had he seen eyes that vivid. The only colours that Wingly eyes could be were black or violet, in varying shades. And dear Quatre's pale aquamarine were no match for this sea-storm variant. Duo gasped softly without knowing when he saw the stranger. And Duo didn't know it, but he was the first one in a long time that had dared to look the stranger in the eyes.  
  
Duo quickly looked somewhere else as he realized he was staring. Finally, after an awkward pause, Duo grinned impishly at the boy and stuck out his hand.  
  
"Hey! My name is Sololo-Du-Maxuwelluo-Shin, but you can call me Duo! I'm the resident Wingly; I'm sure you've heard about the "Winglies are People Too!" campaign a few months ago. Well, for some reason, they picked me to come to this school that didn't even want me, really, although there are a few really nice people here, but there are lots of bad people here too, like the Principal, but my friends that hang out in the band room, they're fun and don't care who you are...but..." Duo chuckled nervously 'Why am I nervous?' Duo thought to himself fleetingly.  
  
"I'm rambling, aren't I?" Duo mentally smacked himself for sounding like an idiot, painfully aware that his hand was hanging in the air.  
  
Duo lowered his hand, took a deep breath, and tried again.  
  
"So, what's your name?"  
  
The reply was fast, curt and to the point. "Heero Yuy." 


	7. Chapter 7

Ok, this one is long in coming and in response to the persistent, never- ending e-mails from Lilli Ixy Kay. Yes, over the past few months, she has poked, prodded, and threatened until I have been forced to update. I admire your determination, I really do. And although it's lame, I do have a few excuses. Like exams! Having to practice for and go away to a provincial competition. Let's see...Five day, free-for-all (not really free), wonderful art excursion to New York City...I now plan to move there when I get the money. So, all of these tings have collaborated to suck my time away from working on this fic...not to mention Earthbound...wow, I love that game... Anywho, this chapter is more about the Winglies and their customs and such. It's dedicated to Lilli Ixy Kay, for being relentless. Hope you enjoy!  
  
It was just after last period, and the four boys were sprawled throughout the band room. Wufei, the boy who played the drums for Trowa and Quatre, was popping in and out of the band room, band room office, and storage room, as he was apt to do. Duo was constantly reminded of the ass-kicking Wufei gave to the jerk a few weeks ago, in the graceful but confident way he walked.  
  
Duo had asked the two others about him once. Quatre had said, "Wufei...just comes and goes. He's nice to us, and he's more than happy to accompany us on the drums, but he's not the type of person who...has friends, I guess. He knows he's welcome to hang out with us." Trowa had added, "Just as many people hate him as hate us - because he's Asian, I guess – but no one makes a big deal out of it. They just don't talk to him." When Duo had asked why, Quatre and Trowa looked at each other in a certain way that Duo had come to recognize as a form of non-verbal communication. Quatre had nodded, and turned to Duo with a slightly apologetic smile. "They just don't." Duo had left it at that.  
  
So, there the four of them were: Wufei moving back and forth, getting some sort of project together; Quatre leaning up against the back of the band room wall, up on the third tier; Trowa, sprawled on his back, with his head resting on Quatre's lap; and Duo, standing on the ground level, flapping his wing to get the last of the molting feathers out. He was finally done with the molt, and he had noticed his feathers were coming in different colour than the white they were before; they had become a slightly grayish- blue colour. Quatre pointed this out from the back of the room, and Duo explained. "When male Winglies age, like into adulthood, our feathers change colour. What colour feathers you get depend on what clan you're from. My clan, the "Shin" clan, has pitch black feathers. However, that was just my father's side. My mother was from the "Solo" clan, and they have bright purple feathers. So I don't know what colour mine will be, eventually. It takes at least seven years for the full colour to come out." Duo laughed. "It's supposed to be a big thing when a boy starts showing his colour; girls are born with their colour. Guys have more vibrant colours, though." Duo bent over and picked up a stray feather from the floor and held it against the newer feathers on his wings. Yup, there was a definite difference. "The deeper the colours, the better looking the guy. Also, the more vibrant the colours are, the better the guy smells. And that's what gets you a mate. I remember learning in my Human studies class, that western society is based on visuals and sounds. That's one of the main differences between humans and Winglies, besides the obvious, of course - "Duo smiled and gave his wings a flap, "Wingly society is based on sight and smell. We communicate more through different pheromones, different positions of wings and such, than through the spoken word." Duo gave a powerful flap of his wings, and jumped. He landed with a thud on the top tier, a foot or two away from Quatre. "Although, I've always been an exception...I love to talk!"  
  
Duo was about to continue, when a voice from across the room spoke up. "What did you learn about Eastern Culture in your...'Human Studies' class?"  
  
Duo turned to see Wufei approaching the three of them, slowly; timidly, Duo would have said, except for the confident and graceful way of walking that made Wufei seem like he gracing the ground with his feet, doing it a great honour by stepping on it. Wufei reached the top tier. "I'm rather curious."  
  
Duo grinned. "My professor said that the Eastern cultures were among the oldest in the world, and that everything was about family. They worshiped their ancestors; everything they did was to add to the honour and prestige of their family." Wufei nodded, approving this short overview. Duo continued.  
  
"It was always my favourite, because it was so close to Wingly folklore. Ancestor worship, the importance of family... There is one major difference; eastern cultures – almost all human cultures, in fact – are patriarchal. Winglies are primarily matriarchal. You see, all girls are born with their wings already coloured. Coloured wings are a sign of maturity. So, it's been supposed since the beginning that girls are more mature, wiser...not necessarily smarter, but less prone to doing something stupid. Also, women run the home, and the home is everything to us. If you have a less than good home, then you try to make it better, more respectable, by making yourself more respectable. There is really only one thing you have to remember: You reflect your Home, and your Home reflects you." Duo finished, grabbing a chair and sitting in it 'backwards,' his wings not fitting when he sat the right way.  
  
Trowa shifted on the floor, his hand reaching up to play with Quatre's hair. "What is your Home like?"  
  
Duo crossed his arms on the back of the chair, and rested his head on them. He shrugged. "My parents are dead. My mom died delivering my baby sister, who died a few days later. My dad, well...after my mom died, he just gave up. I was only ten when my mom died, and a few months later, my dad just wasn't there any more. It doesn't bother me, I can hardly remember my dad - not that I'd want to – and my mom, I can't recall her at all."  
  
Quatre was shocked. "You were ten, and you can't remember? That's awfully old to have a memory gap like that!"  
  
"Winglies age a lot slower than humans. Age ten is just about the same, mentally, as a five or six-year-old human. Like, I'm 35, but appear, physically and mental, around fifteen to seventeen, give or take a year." Duo grinned, but with a hint of sadness. "That's why, when you're all dead and buried, I'll just be easing into old age. Where humans have the advantage, however, is that you age slowly, over years. Winglies hit a plateau of middle age, then deteriorate within three years until we cannot fly. When you see someone who can't fly...you just know they've lost the will to live. It's sad. Really sad. And scary. I'd can't even imagine what it's like not to fly.  
  
"From the time we're born, really, we can fly. We just can; it's instinct. Often before a child can talk, they can fly." A small smile crept onto Duo's face. "I worked for a time in a nursery; after my dad left, the community took turns housing me, feeding me, giving me work. I was staying with the lady who ran the nursery and day care...the children were so cute. They had half formed wings, and tiny little bodies, so it was basically head to toe feathers with the occasional arm, leg or head." Duo laughed, remembering. "They were always getting their wings tangled, and all the girls were always comparing colours...most of them had black wings, due to our clan, but some of them had mixed, too. And one of them had pure, dark blue. She was always showing them off, and picking up the little fuzz feathers that often fall out when a child is growing up and giving them to her friends, who would stick them in their own feathers just to see the contrast and laugh. She was my favourite; so full of life and tenacity. So opinionated! The girl had an answer for everything!"  
  
He sighed, his joy at remembering the girl clouded by the next turn of events. "It was after that, I went to live with the leader of the clan. It was during the time when Winglies and Humans were first interacting, and things weren't going well. I really couldn't have cared less at the time; I was happy, relatively. I was making a name for myself as a hard worker – 'A very polite young one,' as the leader had told me – and people still remembered my family; they were apparently good members of the community, and their name was still connected to me. But one day, the leader got a letter, and it said something about a transfer, a way to get the next community over involved in this one. We weren't on very good terms with certain other communities, but many of the leaders of the Wingly villages thought it important that we all band together, just incase something happened. So she sent me as some sort of ambassador, to show the other community that we were ready to make amends for what ever past crimes we had done, or something like that. I really didn't pay much attention as to the reasons. All I knew was that I was leaving my community for somewhere new. I was so excited; don't get me wrong, I loved my community; but the chance to see something new...Oh, I was pumped! When I got there, however, it was not good. The community shunned me. No one would take me in; I was reduced to begging for food, and I eventually just outright stole it. I couldn't go back; my village was counting on me to establish friendship. It was about six months later that a letter arrived for the clan leader. It was a call for a volunteer to go to this school. She wouldn't have asked anyone from the clan; I can see her reason for it: Why pick a perfectly good member of the community when you can send the town scourge? Hell, I didn't care about the reasons; any excuse for getting out of there, any excuse for more travel. If I had known what it was going to be like here, I would have faced the shame of returning to my home community. There, they would have at least given me a job, a small house. Later, I could leave for another community, make a name for myself. Start a family. Have kids of my own; maybe a little girl with dark blue wings, ya know?"  
  
Duo shook his head, and looked around the band room, lost in his own thoughts. The others looked away, not wanting to disturb him from his private musings. However, Duo's musings were much different than the boys would have expected.  
  
'Those eyes...there's the same colour as the girl's wings...I've never seen such eyes...'  
  
"Hey!" Duo sat straight up in the chair, breaking the silence, and Wufei and Quatre jumped. Trowa merely re-arranged his long legs, and settled into Quatre's lap.  
  
"Have any of you met the new student, this guy, he has brown hair, dark blue eyes...uh, his name is Heero. Heero Yuy."  
  
Trowa sat up and leaned against the wall, beside Quatre. "He's in my Math class. He doesn't talk much. I like him; very serious."  
  
Quatre looked at him, and raised him an eyebrow. Trowa raised him one right back, and saw him a poke, to which Quatre betted on a ticklish rib, and soon they were both engaged in a fierce tickling war. Duo and Wufei both rolled their eyes, and watched in amusement as Quatre won by somehow shutting Trowa in an empty tuba case.  
  
THERE!!!! IT'S UPDATED!!!! Take that, exams! Take that, emotional friends! Take that, screwed up computer! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!! Through all your attempts at trying to kill the fic, I have prevailed! You have no power over me! HAHAHAHA!!!!  
  
Ok, I'm done now. And I promise not to go that long without updating again. I hope that meets standards, and I have no clue where to take this next, so...Ideas, comments, suggestion, all welcome! 


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